


Buckle Up

by djsoliloquy



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Casual Kink, Collars, Established Relationship, F/M, Maria Thorpe is the Cesar Millan of Altairs, Multi, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-18
Updated: 2012-11-18
Packaged: 2017-11-18 23:02:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/566241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/djsoliloquy/pseuds/djsoliloquy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Altair gets overenthusiastic after watching a new detective show. Maria settles him down.</p><p>Not-quite-a-crossover, inspired by Elementary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Buckle Up

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written as a birthday gift for V.

The call comes just as Maria puts on the kettle.

She pins the phone against her ear with a hunched shoulder, standing silent over the stove as Malik catalogues this morning’s unusually whimsical grievances. The water is far from boiling but at some point she turns the gas off, deciding to head over long before Malik gets around to asking.

“I recommend bringing the handcuffs,” Malik says, by way of adieu.

Maria looks around her flat. After a moment, she decides not to bring the handcuffs.

She rides the bus to save time and doesn’t need her copy of the key to let herself into Altair’s apartment. The door is open for her. Malik looks up from the couch with forlorn eyes, scanning her like he’s trying to confirm the presence of handcuffs on her person while she removes her coat and arranges her shoes by the door.

Altair’s indistinct chatter floats in from another room. “So he liked that new show,” Maria says. She plops down beside Malik, a small bag in her hands. The items she brought  _instead_  of the handcuffs.

“Should have intervened when he got cable,” Malik agrees. “Is that…?”

“Sort of.” She opens the bag and pulls out the leash, a long braided leather affair with a hoop on one end and a silver clip on the other. Malik raises an eyebrow as she passes it over. “Hold this for me, would you?” she says. “What I’m wondering is why you didn’t just leave until he wore himself out. Or why you didn’t hide the remote.”

“Escape and set him loose on his neighbors?” Malik says. He winces. “And it’s funny you should mention the remote...”

Before Maria can ask, Altair strides into the room with the remote clutched victoriously in one hand. “Simple,” he announces. “I knew it had to be in the pantry after seeing the turned corner on the hallway rug, and it was straightforward after that to—oh hello, Maria. Next time you’re in a hurry you could save a few minutes taking the south route bus instead of the mid-town.”

Maria stares at him before turning to Malik, whose expression is hovering somewhere beyond the realm of human patience. “All day,” Malik confirms. “I don’t know how he’s doing it. I think he’s cheating. It’s like playing fetch with a conceited Labrador.”

“Well.” Maria stands and rummages around in her bag for the last item. “I suppose that’s as fine a transition as any.”

Altair focuses on her as she pulls out the collar. “Case of the missing Hound?”

“Not quite,” she answers.

The guess about her bus route must have been luck, or else he’s joking, because it’s clearly not a collar intended for animals. The leather is brown and pliant, the fastener easy enough to undo one-handed and by touch, without being able to see it. One side feels smooth and the other soft, designed to be gentle on a human neck.

“It’s simple enough to operate.” She holds the collar up and makes sure Altair sees how the buckle works. “I’d like to put you in it for a while. Would that be okay?”

A surprised silence settles over the room. Apparently that wasn’t what Altair deduced she would say.

Maria can almost hear mental gears shifting as Altair takes in the appearance of this new unexpected element, suggestive of something different and seemingly incompatible with whatever vague script he had planned in his head for today, this interaction.

She takes it as a good sign when Altair sets the television remote aside.

“Why?” Altair says, though he’s already centering on the idea, turning to it like a plant towards sunlight. The spry energy of pretend PI mellows to something quieter, more focused. A different sort of game. Malik watches with wide eyes from the couch.

She holds the collar out in proposal. “Why do you think, detective?”

Altair looks from her to the collar, still calculating or coming to terms with something. She can’t help the jolt of excitement when, rather than taking it from her, Altair bows at the waist and holds his neck out for Maria to put the collar on him herself. He watches her as he does it, not lowering his gaze. Yet it’s attentive rather than defiant, waiting for Maria’s next move—

None of it  _unexpected_  exactly, given Altair’s all or nothing boldness to the new or challenging. It doesn’t change the fact that Maria could look at him like this for a very long time.

“Lovely,” she says and steps forward. If she intended it as thanks and recognition of his consent it nevertheless comes out as praise; his breathing deepens. He might not be aware it. Almost more surprising is _Malik_  being pulled in as well, no longer on the couch but standing just behind her and raptly watching both of them.

It’s like gravity. Maria relishes it, letting their interest draw her in the rest of the way. She attaches the collar and buckles it behind Altair’s neck. Before letting go she fits a couple fingers under the leather, sliding the back of them along Altair’s neck. To make sure the fit is snug but not tight, and because she wants to see if Altair will move with her without being asked when she hooks her fingers under the leather and gently  _pulls_.

He does, following the pressure and rolling onto the balls of his feet. He’s prepared to step forward for her when she lets go. That certainly bodes well for the leash. 

Behind her, Malik makes a small sound as he exhales.

“How does that feel?” Maria asks Altair.

“Fine,” he says after a pause. The color on his face falls short of flushed but the shade is distinctly pink, as though he’s been jogging.

It’s just a collar. Not fancy or expensive, and not specifically  _Altair’s_  since the three of them have never played with this before and it hadn’t occurred to Maria to start shopping around. She wonders now if she should. Perhaps for  _both_  them, if Malik’s expression is anything as immersed as Altair’s when they glance at each other over Maria’s shoulder.

A heady thought, and getting ahead of things. Maria holds a palm behind her back and Malik places the coiled up leash in her hand. Altair’s eyes flicker when he sees it but he turns his head so it can be attached. The setup doesn’t constrain him like the handcuffs would. It just… helps give direction. Refocuses. Centers.

“Now, then,” Maria says. She manages a steady, casual note. The intensity in the room clears somewhat, a measured little disruption that gives everyone a chance to breathe. Altair stands up straighter, blinking. Malik lets out another held breath.  

They’ll start small.

“Now, then. Malik,” says Maria without turning around, “why don’t you hide the remote again?”

 


End file.
